Window to the Soul
by Roadrunnerz
Summary: "...if the only way to stop you from getting shot in the chest was to shoot you in the legs, I'd do it." Castle has a dream that feels all too real. A post 8x02 fic.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** A little romance, a little angst. A short three-shot based on the premise that Beckett never met with Rita at the end of 8x02. Usual fanfic disclaimers apply. Characters don't belong to me and all mistakes are mine.

* * *

 **Window to the Soul**

"Sorrow compressed my heart, and I felt I would die, and then . . . Well, then I woke up."  
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky

 _"Castle, stop!"_

 _He was out of breath, chasing after her for so many blocks until they ended up here, in this dark, garbage laden alley. He doubled over, catching his breath. How was it possible for her to run like this after being shot less than 24 hours ago?_

 _She stopped running now. Stopped dead in her tracks, spun around on her heels and glared at him. "You need to go home, Castle."_

 _"Not without you," he gasped. "Home is where you are."_

 _"I told you, I can't."_

 _"Why?" None of this made any sense._

 _"This is not your fight," she hissed. "I will not let you go down this path with me. It's too dark. Too dangerous."_

 _He saw the growing red blood stain on her shirt, where she'd been shot. He wanted, no,_ needed, _to do something about it. The chase he gave her probably re-opened the stitches._

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid. On both counts. Hers and his._

 _"Kate, we're married. We don't go separate ways any more."_

 _"Castle, don't make me do this..."_

 _"I won't lose you!"_

 _"You already have."_

 _He stared at her in disbelief as she pulled out her gun and pointed it at him, her expression unreadable._

 _A chill ran through his veins. This wasn't happening, was it?_

 _"You take one more step and I'll use it. I'll make you stop!"_

 _This was madness. His wife, the love of his life, was aiming her firearm at him._

 _Of course she wouldn't use the gun. He trusted Kate Beckett with his life. God knows she'd saved it more than once. To prove it, he took a step in her direction._

 _"Kate..."_

 _Then she fired._

The sound shattered his eardrums and jolted him wide awake. Made him grab his comforter and toss it off the bed, just before his arms hyper extended and pushed up his body, jerking him upright.

He was suddenly sitting up, gasping for air.

"Kate...?" He barely got the word out. His lungs were still searching for air, so much so that he couldn't feel the tips of his fingers. They were numb and tingly.

She was here. Sleeping next to him and blissfully unaware of his nightmare. There was no dark alley. No gun pointed at him. No new blood stain on her t-shirt.

 _It's okay. Just a dream._

Rick moved his shaky legs off the bed and lowered his head down to his knees. Breathing downward, into the gap between them until he the room stopped spinning and he could raise his head again.

Then he pushed himself off the bed and walked a few tentative steps to the window on the other side of the room. Yanked the half-closed sliding pane all the way open as far as it could go, to let in more air.

They always left the window open at night. New Yorkers through and through, both him and Kate were immune to the noise of the traffic below. It was a comforting white noise for them. The sound of home.

The breeze that came in and caressed his skin was warm. Not the stifling warmth of a mid-summer breeze, but still too warm for his liking. Too warm for late September.

 _"I won't lose you."_

 _"You already have."_

There was a time after his disappearance last year that he had nightmares nearly every night. During the day, his overactive imagination conjured up horrible possibilities of the things he might have done (they had to have been horrible if he willingly chose to forget them) and at night they turned into equally horrible dreams.

But tonight was worse. Because he could handle a lot of things. But losing his wife wasn't one of them.

"Stop it..." he whispered aloud. Still standing by the window, his breathing was almost back to normal, in rhythm with the traffic below. "It wasn't real."

He turned away from the window, toward the bed.

Kate wasn't gone. She was here, underneath the same roof with him.

It shouldn't have surprised him that he'd have a nightmare after the hell they went through the last two days. Between finding sheets soaked in his wife's blood, witnessing a shoot-out at the precinct alongside his daughter, and getting his ass kicked after a mad man unleashed a half dozen tarantulas on his face, it would have been unnatural for him (or anyone) to sleep peacefully through the night.

Castle walked back to her, picked up the comforter from the floor and slowly, quietly lowered himself onto the bed. Thanks to his brief absence, the sheet had cooled down on his side of the bed, the way he liked it. He wasn't ready to lie down, so he propped up three pillows and leaned back against the headboard, wincing when his muscles reminded him of what he'd put them through the last two days. He might not have a bullet wound in his side but he did have half dozen bruises, the size of apples, dotting various body parts in giant red spots.

He caught the familiar silhouette of Kate's face as watched her sleep, mesmerized for several long moments by the steady rise and fall of her chest, reminding him that she was here, alive and well, and breathing.

She was lying on her back, face turned sideways towards him, one of her arms subconsciously resting on her side where she'd been shot, her other arm sprawled across the bed, claiming his space as hers. She wore short pyjama shorts and her gorgeous bare legs were illuminated by wisps of moonlight coming in through the open window. It was the kind of image that could inspire him to write an entire story.

Castle thought about covering her with the comforter, but then decided against it.

He liked to nestle in the cocoon of all their expensive linen but Kate preferred the freedom of tossing it all aside. (Of course she did). Plus, it was warm in their bedroom tonight and she was such a light sleeper that the gesture would probably wake her up. Rick was mildly surprised that she didn't wake up when he got out of the bed.

 _Must be the drugs,_ he thought.

He'd dragged her to see a doctor after they got back from the precinct last night, in spite of her protests. The older Indian doc had quietly cleaned up her wound, reapplied the dressing and complimented Beckett on her impromptu stitches. They left with a prescription for antibiotics and painkillers, which they picked up on the way back home.

 _"You'll probably have a slight fever for the next two days, before the antibiotics kick in. It's normal. But if it spikes or lasts longer than two days, go to the ER. And what I mean is go_ straight _to the ER. Is that clear?"_

The old man must've sensed his advice would fall on deaf ears, because he repeated it to Rick.

 _"Make your wife go if that is the case, alright, Mr. Castle?"_

Rick wanted to mention that Mr. Castle usually didn't have a lot luck convincing Mrs. Castle to do something she didn't want to, but that he'd make the extra effort this time.

 _"And Mrs. Castle... stay home from work tomorrow. Spend a day recovering."_

 _Yeah, good luck with that,_ Rick thought. He was surprised she didn't correct him when he called her Mrs. Castle.

He made smorelettes when they got back to the loft, after they changed into their pyjamas, because it was easy and he was starving and because she needed to take the medication with food.

Kate only ate half of hers, before she fell asleep on the couch, plate on her lap no less, when the adrenaline of the last two days finally wore off. For an instant it reminded him that she was human after all. He'd taken the plate from her and set it on the coffee table.

"Kate...c'mon," he'd then grabbed one of her hands and gave it a little tug, wanting to rouse her enough so that she'd get up and go to bed. Or else she would spend the night sleeping on the couch. "Let's go to bed."

"Hmm...think 'm gonna stay here," she mumbled without so much as opening her eyes.

"No, you're not."

Castle slid one arm under her legs, the other behind her back and picked her up.

"Castle...stop...put me down..." It was a lame, half-hearted protest, her face burrowing into the space underneath his shoulder even as she said it. It made him smile. His warrior, soft, warm and defenceless in his arms.

"That was real fierce, Beckett," he whispered into her hair.

His back started to protest as he carefully carried her up the stairs to the bedroom, but he didn't care. Castle wasn't going to let her sleep on the couch, because he wanted her to be comfortable tonight, and because he selfishly needed her next to him after spending last night with no idea where the hell she was.

She was fast asleep by the time he set her down on the bed, her long limbs warm and heavy. It had to be the combined effect of the painkillers and the lack of real food. She never slept this hard.

Now it was the middle of the night and Castle couldn't stop staring at her.

 _"I won't lose you."_

 _"You already have."_

He clenched his teeth. He needed those damn words to stop running through his head.

It already happened too often in reality. There were less than a handful of women that he'd ever truly loved. And he'd lost them all. Except for Kate.

Castle frowned. These kind of bleak thoughts weren't who he was. He'd lost several people in his life but had never let that define him. Instead, he wore his outgoing charm like a shield.

Then again, it was the middle of the night and his wife just aimed a gun at him in his dreams. It was the kind of combination that put chinks in your armour. No matter how shiny it was.

"Rick...?" he heard Beckett mumble his name.

Had he voiced his thoughts out loud?

He ran the back of his hand along her forehead and down her cheek and she opened her eyes in response. Her skin felt warmer than usual against his. Not alarmingly warm, but she did have a fever, like the doctor suggested she might.

"Hey..." she blinked herself into wakefulness, questioning why he was sitting up. "You okay?"

 _No._

"Yeah," he told her. "Good. Go back to sleep."

She blinked again. Not believing him. "Sure?"

"Yes."

She reached for him and he took her hand into his own, pulled it up into his space and massaged the top of it with his thumb. The slight, delicate movement lulled her back to sleep in seconds.

He held on to her, knowing he wouldn't go back to sleep tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thanks for reading and for your feedback!

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Castle was still sitting up, leaning against three pillows pushed against the backboard of their bed.

So, she hadn't imagined it last night. There was a moment when she thought she'd been awake and had seen him sitting there, exactly like he was now. But if she really was awake, it was so brief her memory of it was hazy.

Even now Kate had a hard time shaking off the sleep that wanted to pull her back under. It had to be a lingering effect of the narcotic she took last night because she never felt this sluggish in the morning. The pill dulled the painful throb in her side enough to let her sleep and she was grateful for that, but she definitely wouldn't take it during the day. She'd be the loopiest captain the NYPD had ever seen.

"Hey..." Lying on her back, she looked up at her husband with a yawn.

"Hey," he turned at the sound of her voice, his blue eyes creasing into a smile. "How you feeling?"

"Good. You?"

"Good."

"I thought I saw you sitting up in the middle of the night. Thought maybe I was dreaming but now you're still in the same position."

"Couldn't sleep."

"How come?"

He hesitated, as if pondering whether to answer her with the truth. He looked exhausted. The way he used to look in the mornings after his disappearance last year, when he was plagued with nightmares nearly every night.

He smiled. "Too busy watching you sleep."

"I know that's a lie because that _definitely_ would've put you to sleep."

Castle was amused by how easily she caught his lie and it made her smile in return. He often reminded her of a little boy in the morning, with his lazy grin, his crinkled face, and tousled hair, his blue eyes not entirely focused and alert but still curious. Always curious. Hopeful. Her eternal optimist.

Sometimes she wondered what little Ricky Castle was like as a boy. Was he always like this, so full of life and enthusiasm, or was he fulfilling all his childhood fantasies now, living as vicariously as he could to make up for the childhood he never had? Was he forced to grow up too fast, thanks to an absent father and a wildly distracted mother? It made Kate sad sometimes, when she thought about his childhood, especially when she compared it to all the carefree happiness of her own.

It was a marvel really, that he turned out the way he did. Not only a good man, but a happy man.

He was more than that, of course. More than a big, goofy kid. Looking at him now, in the soft morning light, she saw ample evidence of his strength too. Richard Castle was a bear of a man. The kind who could pick her up from the sofa and carry her up a long flight of stairs with ease, even though she wasn't a tiny little thing. Not by a long shot.

She only vaguely remembered him doing it last night, when all of a sudden she no longer had the energy to keep her eyes open, never mind get up and walk upstairs to the bedroom. Vaguely remembered her protests, because Kate Beckett, zonked out on pain meds or not, wasn't keen on being carried anywhere. But she didn't fight it for long, because deep inside she yearned for a real bed too. And she knew how secure she was in his arms. (Unlike the last time a guy tried to sweep her off her feet. Her first boyfriend, who was half a head shorter than her, made an attempt at chivalry once when he decided to pick her up and carry her to a parked car. After three steps, he promptly dropped her ass on the cement floor of the underground parking garage. It hurt like hell and she'd decided then and there, at the ripe old age of fifteen, that she'd be damned if she'd let any other man try that stunt again. Except Castle of course; the exception to all her self-imposed rules.)

She could take Castle in hand-to-hand combat, but when it came to brute force, he'd always be one up on her. Castle didn't have to wear his strength on his sleeve, like most men did. But she knew he'd be able to scoop her up and barrel out of a burning building, if need be. Literally.

It was sexy as hell. The strength in his arms and the way they gripped her when they made love. Knowing that when push came to shove, her husband was a force to be reckoned with. But ultimately, it was his kindness, not his strength, that made her fall in love with him. Deep and hard.

"Tell me the truth," she insisted. Not willing to let it go. "Why were you up all night?"

"Told you. Couldn't sleep."

"But why?" Her hand reached for his thigh and gave it a squeeze. "What's wrong?"

"I had a dream," he finally admitted. Mildly but visibly annoyed by the knowledge that she'd squeeze the truth out of him eventually.

"Tell me about it."

"It's stupid," he turned to her. "I was chasing you, for blocks."

She smirked. "That's not stupid."

"Right."

"Why were you chasing me?"

"You were trying to get away and I wouldn't let you."

"So you had a dream about when we first started working together?"

"Funny."

Kate regretted trying to make light of it the second after she did. It would give him an easy out to stop talking about it. "I'm kidding..." she said softly.

"I know," his grin let her know she didn't need to apologize. "Because we both know you fell for me first."

Kate groaned. "Tell me more about your dream."

"We ended up in an alley and you told me to go home."

Beckett raised her brows.

"I wanted to know why you were doing this. Running from me and telling me to stay out of your life. You said you didn't want me to come down this path with you. That it was too dark and dangerous. I said that I wouldn't lose you and you told me I already did. That's when you threatened to shoot me if I took one more step."

 _"What?"_

"That's when I woke up. Right after you pulled the trigger."

"I shot you?"

"Hey, I didn't say it was a good dream."

"Did I aim for the centre of your body mass?"

"Seriously, Beckett?" He made a face. "You were aiming a gun at me! Does it really matter what body part you were going for?"

Okay, maybe she wasn't wording this right. She definitely didn't have his gift for words. Could she help it that her cop brain thought of these things? "It matters because it's the difference between tying to stop you and trying to kill you...if the only way to stop you from getting shot in the chest was to shoot you in the legs, I'd do it."

"Is this supposed to make me feel better?"

"I, uh...no. I mean, yes. That's exactly what it's supposed to do. Knowing that even in your dreams I'm trying to protect you. Not kill you."

"Alright then."

"Hey..." Kate pushed herself up and inched towards him, grimacing when the wound in her side reminded her that her body wasn't ready for these kind of movements yet.

His strong arms reached for her and helped lift her over to him, until she was upright enough that she could push herself over his legs, straddling him. "Take it easy," he mumbled.

"I'm sorry...about your dream. For what it's worth, I have no plans to shoot you. Anywhere."

His face softened. "Good to know."

She pressed her palms against his chest and leaned in to kiss him. "Who was it that said that dreams are a window to your soul?"

"Someone that writes cheesy slogans for Hallmark cards?" He exhaled, still so serious. So unlike him. "If it's true then my soul is terrified of losing you."

 _You won't. Not a chance._

"We had a hell of a day yesterday," she reminded him. "The kind that spawns nightmares."

"You're right," he sighed and leaned back into his squished pillows. Closed his tired eyes. "It just felt _so_ real. Like it was more than a dream."

"It wasn't."

"I know."

"If you have another one tomorrow night, wake me. I'll help you forget it."

"Alright, I will."

Kate knew that he wouldn't though. Wake her, that is. Not as long as he thought she needed sleep.

She kissed him again, even though it tugged at her side and this time he finally kissed her back, running his fingers through her hair in the process. She loved when he did that, deftly massaged her scalp with the tip of his fingers and turned her entire body into mush. His eager tongue swirled between her teeth and it was fast turning into the kind of kiss that made her want to grab him and his adorable bed head hair, sink back down onto the mattress and keep going until...until she spotted the time on the alarm clock. She pushed herself off him. "Shit..."

"What?"

"The time...it's 8 o'clock!"

"So?"

"I have to go to work! I already missed my first two days as captain. I can't miss another one. I'll lose my job before I start it!"

"Kate, you're running a fever and you...you got _shot_ yesterday! The doc said..."

"I'm _fine_ , babe," she cut him off. She really was okay. Not exactly _fine_ but well enough to go to work. Especially to a desk job. Beckett was intimately acquainted with the kind of bullet wound that could keep someone off their feet for weeks and she knew that this graze from yesterday wasn't one of them.

"Breakfast first," he insisted. "Have an actual meal for the first time in three days."

"Okay." She _was_ starving, now that he mentioned it. "Let's have breakfast. Lots of it."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Last chapter! Thanks for reading and for your feedback!

* * *

He already cooked up a storm by the time she came out of the bathroom, ready for work. She looked, _really good_ , in an elegant new black blouse that he hadn't seen before.

"Help me fasten this latch in the back?" she asked, getting right into his space by the stove top, the shower fresh scent of her mixing with that of eggs and bacon.

"Are we having company? This is enough to feed a family of six."

Castle put down his spatula and moved right behind her, tucked her long hair aside to give him better access to the top of her blouse. His chubby fingers had a hard time with the tiny latch. Took him three tries and by the time he was done he was seriously distracted by the curve of her neck right in his line of vision. He lowered his chin and planted a soft kiss behind her ear and let his lips linger there. Her skin still radiated warmth and he wished she'd just stay home for a day and take it easy for once. But he knew that she wouldn't. That even suggesting it was pointless.

Kate turned around with a smile. "Thanks."

"Start eating," he told her. "I'll join you in a sec." He'd put a massive spread on the pantry. Fresh brewed coffee, scrambled eggs, bacon and sausages (he was starving and couldn't decide between the two), a plate of fruit, toast and butter, and a handful of Danishes he'd taken out of the freezer and popped in the oven. It didn't matter if they wouldn't finish it off. He figured the scent of the food would bring Alexis down here and she'd help them out. Or his mother might come around at some point during the day and at least nibble at the fruit.

Kate poured him some coffee and Castle scooped the last of the bacon strips from the frying pan onto a plate, before sitting down across from her.

"You're right," she conceded, mouth-half full. "Breakfast was a good idea."

"Tell me about it," he started digging in too. Truth was he could probably finish all this himself. Not that he would. But he was hungry enough that he'd be capable of it.

He watched as she poured one of the antibiotic tablets out of the prescription container and swallowed it with some coffee, while leaving the painkillers untouched.

"You're not sore?"

"Not sore enough for those. I took some Advil in the bathroom."

"Good." That would help with the fever at least.

She eyed him as he scooped up some more eggs. "I'm not a masochist, Castle."

"You sure about that?"

"Hey," she put down her fork and narrowed her brows. "Where's this coming from?"

 _Good question,_ he thought. Why was he doing this now, over breakfast? They were good. She was fine. He was fine. And here he was, poking the dragon for no reason. _The dream, that's why. That damn dream that felt more like a premonition than anything else._

"I...don't know. I'm sorry."

"Are you still bugged by that dream?"

"No." _Yes._

"You are, aren't you? Castle..."

"What you did in my dream. I could see you doing it, Kate. That's the worst part. Once you set your mind to something...you have tunnel vision. Everything around you doesn't matter anymore. Not yourself, your well-being, not the life you've built for yourself..."

"Whoa..." She waved her fork in the air. "Wasn't it you who once told me that's what makes me extraordinary? The fact that I don't back down and don't let go. Or does that only apply as long as I'm not your wife?"

His cheeks burned at the accusation. Because she was right.

That unwavering resolve and passion for what she did, is what had drawn him to her. It's what made her so different from all the other gorgeous women he used to fall for. Made them all seem so shallow by comparison. But now that Beckett was his wife, all he wanted was to keep her around, in one piece. The very thing that made him fall in love with her might become the one thing that would drive them apart. It was the oldest cliché in the book. And it was true.

She was driven and relentless. Kate Beckett cared too much and she... _Did. Not. Back. Down_. It's why she was able to give so many victims and their families answers and closure. There were so many people out there who were forever grateful that this is who she was.

It did make her extraordinary.

And one day it would get her killed.

"If...you staying alive means you not clearing a case or two, then, yeah...I'd prefer that. Is that such a horrible thing to want?"

"You're asking me to be someone that I'm not," she said softly. "You knew who you married."

"I thought that after you almost fell off the ledge of a building and quit your job that you'd changed! That this wasn't who you wanted to be anymore!"

He saw a flare of anger in her eyes after he raised his voice. Watched as she let it abate before grabbing a piece of melon and taking a bite. "When I first met you, Castle, I thought you were a bored, rich playboy with ADD, who needed constant attention and adoration."

He swallowed, not sure how they suddenly switched topics. From her to him. It stung a little, her flippant reminder of who he used to be.

"I know better than that now," she added softly. "I know that's you're so much more than that."

"But...?"

"But _that_ part of you...the charmer who can make small talk with anyone. The man who loves attention, loves parties, bright lights and beautiful women...that's still who you are. Marrying me hasn't changed that."

"You're the only beautiful woman that I love now," he told her. "Let me also point out that my inherent personality traits are so much less likely to get me killed than yours."

"Castle...that is so unfair." Her eyes were so dark and serious now and she put aside her plate. Done with breakfast because he'd clearly killed her appetite. Guilt gnawed at him. He didn't want this. Didn't want to fight with her this morning. And yet he couldn't help himself. All because of some stupid dream.

She slid off the chair she was sitting on, ready to head out. "You're the only man who's ever made me want to be... _more_ than who I was. More than a woman on a mission out for justice. But just because that's not all that I am anymore, doesn't mean it's gone."

Castle got up as well. Moved closer to her. "Tell me something, Kate. This thing that happened yesterday...is it really over? Was that dead AG agent really the connection you were looking for?"

 _Please say yes._

"I don't know."

His throat constricted. "Promise me you won't pursue it if it's not over?"

Kate tightened her lips. Gearing up for battle already, with him as her first target. "I'm not going to lie to you."

"Don't lie then," he shot back. "Tell me you won't do it and don't."

"Half a dozen of my former colleagues are dead because of something _I_ started, Rick! This is not about me wanting to clear some case in order to put another notch on my belt. If this thing isn't over...I _owe_ it to them! If this isn't over..." Her steely gaze met his and they stood only inches apart. "It means there's deep-seated corruption at the highest levels of the government, connected to the same man who murdered my mother. I can't just stand by, wave my arms in the air and pretend that yesterday never happened. That's not who I am. You _know_ that."

"You're not the only capable investigator in America!"

"Castle..." she exhaled, eyes still locked with his until she pressed her palms against his chest and pushed herself away from him. "I'm not discussing this. All of this is mad speculation. There _is_ nothing to discuss...I have to go to work."

She stepped over to the dresser by the staircase and opened the locked drawer containing her badge and gun.

"If this isn't over and you pursue this, they're gonna kill you," he whispered.

"If I stop investigating every case that could get me killed, I might as well hand in my badge!"

"Not the same as running headfirst into..."

"Castle..." she gritted her teeth and cut him off. After slipping the gun into it, she fastened the holster over her blouse top and then put on the suit jacket that had been lying on the dresser over both of them. " _Don't."_

She was building another wall right in front of his eyes and it made him want to throw something. If this wasn't over, there was nothing he could do to stop her from diving into it. That's what she was telling him without so many words.

God, she was so unbearably frustrating sometimes.

Beckett moved to the doorway, slipped into a pair of heels and grabbed her set of keys from the ring hanging next to the closet, ready to storm out the door without another word.

"Kate..." He couldn't let her leave like this. Not after what happened the last time she left for work. No matter how terrified or frustrated he was. He walked across the room and grabbed her arm. "Wait."

"Look, I really have to..."

"I'd tell you to knock 'em dead, honey, but last time I did that, you took it way too literally."

His words elicited a semblance of a smile from her and it managed to temper the unease between them. Exactly what he was aiming for.

"Too soon?"

"Yeah..." she exhaled. "Too soon."

Rick took another step towards her and pulled her into an embrace. No more jokes. "I love you. So much."

Judging from the way her body softened against his and released some of the tension he'd helped build up, she needed to hear it. Castle wanted to kick himself for not realizing it sooner. She'd been shot and nearly killed less than two days ago and he hadn't even told her how grateful he was that she was still here. That he could still hold her and watch her sleep in the moonlight and argue with her over breakfast. Instead, they talked about nightmares, lies, promises and what ifs. Her arms coiled around his neck, wanting his touch as much as he craved hers, until she was close enough that he felt her breath on his skin. He held on to her, as tightly as the holster and her bullet wound allowed, and he whispered it into her ear again. "I love you."

And again. " _I love you_."

He closed his eyes and let her soft hair brush against his cheek when she kissed him. This was the only thing that really mattered. Her. Alive and in his arms. Here and now.

"Rick..." Kate's teeth nipped against his lips. "That dream. It wasn't real. It'll never be real."

He nodded. Willing to believe her, in spite of the way his gut twisted at the reminder.

"I'll always do whatever it takes to protect you, but you're never going to lose me." Her long fingers cupped his chin and forced him to look her in the eye. "Do you understand? Never. That's one promise I can make you."

Rick nodded. It wasn't the promise he was hoping for. Because it wasn't the one that would keep her safe. But he let her words sink in. Let himself believe them.

 _You're never going to lose me._

That was enough.

It would always be enough.


End file.
